Sizing Things Up
by avidbeader
Summary: Ydrell was a professional. Size up the possibilities, decide quickly, make the grab, and deliver the goods. His reputation among his clients was stellar and he intended to keep it that way.


**Disclaimer:** If you recognize the characters, they aren't mine. Just playing in the sandbox provided by Dreamworks and the "Voltron" production team.

 **Reminder:** I'm on Twitter under "avidbeader" if you're reading this as a guest and prefer seeing notifications there. I'm also on Tumblr, reblogging all the Voltron.

Thank you as always for reading, favoriting/giving kudos, and offering comments. Sorry it's not a "Scattered" update but this story jumped in my head and would not let go until I wrote it. Thanks very much to **Rangergirl3** for looking it over first.

* * *

Ydrell was a professional. Size up the possibilities, decide quickly, make the grab, and deliver the goods. His reputation among his clients was stellar and he intended to keep it that way even as the Galra Empire began sniffing around Pelovarian territory.

Here, at least, there were no Galra yet. Pelovar's smallest habitable planet hosted a seasonal market and fair near its largest city. There were easy pickings here every quarter, even with a vigilant peacekeeping force sent by the city. Ydrell avoided the locals, sticking to searching the itinerants for his merchandise, and so far Pelovar was one of his most profitable haunts.

His eyes lit up and he put a hand to either side to halt his men. Here was an interesting possibility, a type Ydrell had never seen before. On the small side, but that was an advantage for the client that had sprung to mind. Very attractive…very attractive indeed, with an exotic quality that was likely to fetch a higher price.

His men fell into step behind him with the ease of long practice, already aware of what had caught his interest. They just needed to eliminate the guard. Said guard was a very healthy specimen, only a head shorter than Ydrell and powerfully built. For a moment Ydrell debated trying to recruit that one to the gang. Then the guard turned toward the target, showing an open and friendly smile to passers-by.

No. This was not someone who would ever consider Ydrell's line of work.

But that was why Ydrell and his men had the sleepers. Drop the guard with a shot near the cardiovascular center, snatch up the target, and they would be gone with a minimum of fuss and no one to chase them.

As they drew a little closer, their quarry turned onto a path that ran between two of the few actual buildings in the fairgrounds. These buildings rose three stories high, above the sea of tents. Many first-time visitors to the fair assumed there were permanent shops here, but this was an empty blind alley.

Perfect. Ydrell and his men moved swiftly to block their exit.

As they started in, the guard realized their mistake and turned around. Jarrl on Ydrell's left struck, firing a sleeper dart at the torso. The guard winced and reached to pull it free. "Ow! What the quiznak?" The target spun and immediately took in the presence of Ydrell and his men, looking wary.

Ydrell felt an instant of unease. Was the physiology of these aliens different from the usual bipeds?

And then the guard toppled over as the sleeper took effect.

"Hunk? Hunk!" The target dropped to one knee, putting one hand to the guard's neck. Ydrell and his men moved forward.

"They'll be fine…as long as you come quietly." It was astonishing how often that demand worked. And when it didn't, they had the cuffs and hooded cloak…

On his right, Elzor moved in.

And the target exploded into motion, a tornado of sudden sharp edges.

Ydrell backpedaled to avoid the spurt of blood and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Where had that sword come from? The only thing he had seen the target carrying was a dagger! And even as he tried to comprehend it, hearing Elzor cry out in pain, a strange red-and-white object appeared in the target's other hand and shifted into a second sword.

Jarrl brought out his own weapon, a heavy bladed staff that served him well. Ydrell paused, caught in an agony of indecision. He didn't want the target marred and his man should know better. But their stun bolts were loud and the grab was already taking too long. He hated to use the sleepers on the targets in case of damaging side effects, but this time the risk might be necessary.

But the target took the decision out of his hands, shouting, "Red! We need help!"

Ydrell now needed speed over silence. He drew his stun bolts and started to flank the target while Jarrl kept attention focused on him. It helped that the target was shielding the downed guard and had limited mobility. Had Ydrell completely misread the two of them? Was the smaller alien actually the guard for the bigger one?

But the target's situational awareness proved devastating and Ydrell found himself having to duck as the first sword came spinning at him. He tried a shot, only for the target to fling themselves sideways in a controlled tumble, and come up with a swing from the second sword that sliced the staff in two. The target then expertly bound up what was left in Jarrl's hands and wrenched it away, flinging it at Elzor who was just about to regain his feet but went down again at the impact.

Ydrell's only warning was a sleek whirr in the air before something hit his shoulder from behind as the first sword _returned_. The target caught it without even looking and shouted again for help. Ydrell felt blood start pouring from the wound even as he ducked yet another strike from the target.

He hated to abandon this target but two of them were hit and the third was currently weaponless. He hadn't gotten as far as he had by being stupid. "Cut and run!"

The three of them ran toward the entrance to the alley. A figure even smaller than the target appeared, blocking them, and Ydrell snarled, ready to bowl them over.

The third alien didn't even blink. They brought out another of those strange objects and suddenly a glowing green rope was wrapped around Jarrl, sending crackling energy through his body, and the small one slid under Ydrell, looping the rope around his ankle.

Ydrell screamed as the same current shot through him, paralyzing his muscles and causing him to collapse.

* * *

Shiro finished listening to the sheriff's report, nodded his thanks, and turned back to his team. He paused for a moment, trying to get a grip on his emotions, and studied the others. Keith was hovering over Hunk, who had regained consciousness while the sheriff's men were arresting the attackers and applying slapdash first aid. Lance had Pidge to one side with her shirt pulled up just enough so he could apply a disinfecting salve to her back. Her shirt had ridden up when sliding through the leader's legs on the gravel path and she had half a dozen scrapes to show for it.

Shiro took one last shuddering breath, reminding himself that _it didn't happen_ , before approaching the others.

Keith looked up. "So, are we in trouble? They made a big deal about market truce when we entered the fair."

"No, just the opposite, in fact. These men have been a problem for the sheriff for years, visiting the fair every quarter but always managing to get away somehow."

"What were they doing? Trying to rob visitors?" Pidge asked.

Keith shook his head. "No, it wasn't robbery. They tried to get me to go with them without attracting attention. Are they bounty hunters? Working for the Galra?"

Shiro swallowed hard. This was ugly and sickening and he wished he could keep it from them, especially Pidge…Katie. But they needed to know so they could guard themselves in the future.

"No, they weren't. The ringleader, Ydrell, was a…procurer."

Hunk frowned, still fighting off the last effects of the sedative. Pidge looked confused. "A procurer? Of what?"

Lance looked shocked, then his expression hardened. Keith's face went pale.

"A procurer of people. This Ydrell may have been supplying up to a dozen places in this sector with...with…" Shiro couldn't bring himself to voice it.

"Sex slaves," Lance said flatly. "Prostitutes. Courtesans, if you want to put frosting on the shit-cake."

Pidge's head snapped around to look at Lance. "What? No!" Seeing the anger in his eyes, she turned back to Keith. He had brought his palms together and pressed his hands to his mouth, his eyes looking inward. She launched herself at him, flinging her arms around him.

That brought him out of his thoughts. He returned the hug, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. "It's okay, it didn't happen. They'd already made the decision to run and thanks to you, they got caught."

Hearing Keith voice those facts went a long way to calming Shiro down. Keith had been able to hold his own against the attackers. He had called for backup immediately and Pidge had delivered. They were capable individually and as a team, just like when they were flying the Lions. _It didn't happen._

Hunk had managed to get to his feet and wrap his arms around both Keith and Pidge. "I'm just glad there weren't more of them."

Shiro stepped forward to join the group hug, gesturing at Lance. But the Blue Paladin cocked his head and appeared to be studying Keith.

"Nope, I just don't get it. Beauty standards can't be _that_ different around here. Why in the world would that guy choose Mullet when the most handsome Cuban on this side of the universe is right here?" He struck a pose.

Pidge opened her mouth to yell at Lance for such insanely crass remarks, but Keith squeezed her shoulder. Then she caught what Keith had noticed – that twinkle deep in Lance's eyes. He was teasing, looking to make a joke, to distract them.

Shiro reached out and snagged Lance's arm, pulling him in. He savored the moment, the knowledge that for right now, at least, they were all safe.

"Come on. I'm sure Allura and Coran will be ready to leave by the time we get back. Let's go home."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thank you for reading!


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